


Your Majesty

by Josselin



Series: Your Majesty [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Time Travel, murder!Laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin
Summary: A king who did not remember his own past would be easily perceived as weak and vulnerable, and Laurent had no intention of exposing that kind of vulnerability. He would have to pretend. To be very cautious not to let on that anything surprised him, or that he did not know what others expected him to do. Only once he understood this world and his position was secure would he be able to act freely.





	Your Majesty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kittendiamore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittendiamore/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Weighed and Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834353) by [Kittendiamore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittendiamore/pseuds/Kittendiamore). 



> I’ve been reading [Weighed and Measured](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13834353) but I was pretty concerned about what happened to the Laurent who the time traveling Laurent replaced, so uh, I wrote a fic about him. He is called murderous!Laurent because of all of his angry feelings about wanting to overthrow his brother.
> 
> Murderous!Laurent goes off to the same cave of Kittendiamore's fic, but makes a slightly different wish, and ends up in a slightly different place….

Laurent couldn’t read the words in the cave, but he’d read the translated book in the library about what they were supposed to say, and so he thought, deliberately, “I want to be king,” and then again “I want to be king,” and then he just thought “King, king, king,” as the space greyed out around him.

When he awoke, he was in a bed. The quality of the bed was good, from the feel of the linens against his face, and the room was dark. He opened his eyes. There was a window on the far side of the room, a small window such as the type in the fortresses along the border that were built for defense and not for pleasure like the palace at Arles. There was a candle on a stand close to the bed, but it was out, wax trailing over the edge.

It had worked, Laurent supposed. The cave had done something, at least, because this was not the Akielon wilderness he had started in, and it was not his usual chambers in Arles. The decor was lacking, but if he were king now he could easily deal with that.

He would have to be cautious, though. A king who did not remember his own past would be easily perceived as weak and vulnerable, and Laurent had no intention of exposing that kind of vulnerability. He would have to pretend. To be very cautious not to let on that anything surprised him, or that he did not know what others expected him to do. Only once he understood this world and his position was secure would he be able to act freely.

There was a noise behind him, and then a movement in the bed, and then Laurent stiffened in shock as a body rolled next to him and curled up at his back. He became aware that he was not wearing any bedclothes. Neither was the man behind him.

“Good morning, your majesty,” said the man. His tone was warm, intimate, teasing. He spoke into Laurent’s ear. “Are you recovered from the coronation celebration last night?”

Laurent twisted around in the man’s arms, because it was too much of a weakness to not know the man’s name or the man’s face. The man lifted his arm slightly to allow Laurent’s movement, and then, when Laurent was facing him, he raised his hand to push Laurent’s hair out of his eyes.

Laurent recognized him. It was Damianos of Akielos. He knew the man from Auguste’s endless charade of trade negotiations. Why had he chosen that barbarian as an ally, Laurent wondered. He supposed the man must have been useful, somehow. Perhaps he should have considered that angle sooner. Akielos was uncultured and the men wore skirts that revealed their behinds when they bent over, but their military power was significant. Perhaps he ought to have cultivated more of an interest.

Damianos seemed to expect Laurent to say something. Laurent decided that arrogance was an acceptable assumption. “Call me ‘your majesty’ again,” he said.

Damianos laughed, a deep rumble in his chest that Laurent could feel in their embrace more than he heard in the air. “Oh you like that, do you?”

“I’m waiting,” said Laurent.

“Your majesty,” Damianos said, though his voice was more teasing than properly respectful. “King of New Artes…and Acquitart, of course.”

New Artes?

There was little time to contemplate what that meant, because Damianos had leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm, pressing against Laurent’s. His face was covered in stubble and it reddened Laurent’s skin. He liked it. Laurent made a surprised noise, and Damianos kissed him again, and then Damianos was bold enough that he parted Laurent’s lips with his tongue.

New Artes? What did that mean? Laurent had expected Vere, or, perhaps given his bedmate, Akielos. Did Akielons call their consorts Kings? He needed to get to the library--although where was he, since this clearly wasn’t Arles? He would have brought the library, though, he assumed.

“You seem distracted,” said Damianos.

“I’m thinking of the library,” said Laurent, not thinking.

“I will take that as a challenge,” said Damianos, and he pulled away from Laurent’s mouth and crawled beneath the bedcovers.

Laurent felt Damianos’s stubble on his chest, first, as Damianos trailed his lips along Laurent’s skin, and then he felt it on his stomach. Damianos lingered on his stomach for a long moment, and Laurent’s thoughts were no longer on the library. They were divided between two threads. One thread was considering the fact that he had never previously contemplated the pleasure of someone’s stubble properly applied to the sensitive skin of his stomach, and wondering why this had not occurred to him before. The second thread was desperately hoping that Damianos was still traveling southward and was going to use his mouth on Laurent’s cock.

“Please,” said Laurent.

Damianos mumbled something Laurent couldn’t make out from under the blankets. Laurent’s hands were lying on the top of the sheets, helplessly. He thought perhaps he should do something with them, but he wasn’t certain what, exactly. He reached one of them under the blanket tentatively and found the top of Damianos’s head and let it rest in the curls there. His hair was thick, and it wound around Laurent’s fingers.

Laurent felt especially conscious of the skin on his stomach, which he had never previously thought about. He could feel the trailing wetness where Damianos’s mouth had been, and the brush of his lips.

“Are you--” said Laurent, because he had always talked too much when he was nervous. “Damianos, will you--”

Damianos sat up, and the blankets fell down his back, leaving both of them revealed.

Laurent shivered. The air was cooler than the pocket of warmth under the blanket. He felt exposed. Looking at Damianos was different now, also. He hadn’t been able to see him well when he had been only a few inches away in the darkness, and now he could see Damianos sitting back on his heels on the bed. His body was visible. Laurent could see his hair and he could still feel the echoes of it on his fingers. His chest was broad and his shoulders were powerful. Laurent looked at his arms. He had a scar on one of his shoulders from what had almost certainly been a swordfight and another on his torso that Laurent suspected was a knife.

What was Laurent doing with this man, this fighter? Did he fight for Laurent? Was this--some kind of reward? Would he expect--?

Damianos was talking. “You’re very formal, this morning,” he said, and then he said, “Damianos,” mimicking Laurent.

Laurent berated himself. He was already revealing his ignorance. He tried to think of what to say.

Damianos continued. “Is this because you want me to call you ‘Your majesty’ again?”

“Yes,” Laurent said, figuring that was as good of an excuse as any.

Damianos laughed, which relieved Laurent because at least he did not seem suspicious about Laurent’s ignorance. “You could call me that, as well,” he suggested.

Laurent had been distracted by his gaze traveling further down Damianos’s body.

“Your majesty?” said Laurent, his eyes still on Damianos’s body.

“Yes?” said Damianos, as though he were responding.

Laurent tried to retake control of the situation. “I am thinking of the library again,” he said. He wasn’t looking at the library. “I thought you were going to do something about that.”

Damianos laughed, again, and then he leaned over, which interrupted Laurent’s view, but Laurent did not complain because Damianos took Laurent’s cock in his hand and closed his mouth over the tip.

Laurent swore, and arched slightly in the bed. In this other world he apparently had a giant Akielon who could fight all of his battles and then please him in the bedroom. Henri’s warnings about the unpredictability and risks of the cave seemed very far away; Laurent’s only regret was that he should have done this years ago.

“I like that,” said Laurent. He had known that men liked having their cocks sucked, but he had a new visceral understanding for why men liked it.

Damianos laughed slightly again, which was even more pleasurable when his mouth was occupied.

Laurent prided himself on understanding intellectually what made for a good blowjob. It was important to build over time, and to start coy and teasing and then to bring the man close and back away several times before permitting him to finish. It was a performance as much as it was an act of pleasure.

Damianos was doing it completely wrong. He was direct and unhesitating. He hadn’t started with small licks or glances up through his eyelashes. He simply wrapped his mouth around the head and sucked, and then he continued to do so. He used his hand on what his mouth did not cover, stroking Laurent firmly and gently as he sucked.

He acted familiar with Laurent’s body. His movements with Laurent’s body were confident and experienced. He touched Laurent with an awareness that Laurent did not always even feel like he had with himself.

Laurent realized again that he was doing nothing with his hands, and a second time he reached one of them down the bed. He could see what he was reaching for, this time, and so he settled his hand in Damianos’s curls with less hesitation. Damianos hummed agreeably as he did so, which felt amazing, and so Laurent tightened his grasp on Damianos’s hair instinctively.

Seeing it happen was almost as incredible as feeling it happen. To see his cock slipping in and out of Damianos’s mouth, or to see the curve of Damianos’s cheek as his mouth closed around it. Laurent felt powerful. He felt entitled. He deserved this. He ought to be treated this way, he thought.

Damianos shifted slightly on the bed, which allowed Laurent’s cock to slip deeper into his mouth.

Laurent let out a breath of air.

Damianos pulled his mouth off of Laurent’s cock, leaving it wet and cool in the air. Laurent curled his head up to object.

Damianos was looking up at him deliberately, dark-eyed. “Are you thinking of the library now?” he said.

“I hate you,” said Laurent.

Damianos simply laughed again. His hand was still stroking Laurent’s cock slowly, but he did not put his mouth back. Laurent thought about how to fix this.

“Keep going,” he said.

“Do you want to finish this way?” said Damianos, still moving his hand rhythmically.Laurent was uncertain why that was even a question. He hesitated, and Damianos continued. “How do you feel from last night--” and Laurent lost track of the rest of what Damianos was saying because Damianos had slipped one hand under Laurent while he was talking and had pressed one of his fingers inside Laurent.

“You--” said Laurent.

Damianos curled his finger, and Laurent made a small noise.

“Please,” said Laurent. He couldn’t think. He was helpless and his thoughts were a summer storm and every time Damianos crooked his finger there was a lightning flash of pleasure through his body.

Damianos reapplied his mouth. He still had no sense of style to his fellatio, but Laurent no longer cared, and his hips moved helplessly, thrusting up into Damianos’s mouth. He was speaking again, helplessly, saying, “Yes,” and “please,” and biting his lip hard around any other words that might give him away.

Damianos swallowed.

After the storm had passed, Damianos let Laurent’s cock slip gently from his mouth and he crawled up the bed. He had the gall to kiss Laurent again, after he had sucked him, and Laurent almost objected but Damianos did not seem to expect an objection and Laurent was feeling sort of weakly fond of Damianos after his unexpected skill at bringing Laurent to orgasm.

Damianos kissed him again. “What, no clever words?” he said.

Laurent still didn’t completely trust himself to speak. “I want you to do that again.”

Damianos laughed, brushing cheeks with Laurent affectionately. “I had another idea.”

Laurent was not generally interested in other people’s ideas, especially when they conflicted with his own. “Do I keep you around to have ideas?” he said.

It was as though whatever he said, Damianos just laughed. Laurent had apparently become the king of New Artes, whatever that was--he should have been more specific with the cave--and also become some kind of comedian. Probably he had a hat with bells and told jokes in front of the court.

Damianos reached for the table next to the bed where the burnt out candle was sitting. Next to the candle was a small jar. Damianos took it and settled back over Laurent on the bed.

Laurent watched him open the jar. “I can guess what your idea is,” said Laurent.

“Can you?” said Damianos, smiling as he dipped his fingers in the jar.

“Yes,” said Laurent, archly. He could certainly guess, though he wasn’t certain how he felt about it. Damianos’s finger had been pleasurable enough, he supposed, but his cock was significantly larger than his finger. Laurent’s gaze strayed to it again.

Damianos closed the jar and set it aside. “Won’t you be surprised when I head off to the library, then,” he said, and it was Laurent’s turn to laugh, surprised.

He hadn’t expected to laugh, as the king. He hadn’t expected oral sex, either, he supposed. He hadn’t expected the King of Akielos, either. None of this was happening according to his plan.

This time, he did expect Damianos’s finger, when he again slipped it inside Laurent, newly coated in oil.

With his arousal less insistent than before, there was more time to think about what was happening. About letting this man touch him, move his body around on the bed for his own convenience, stroke inside him. He had not anticipated any of that, as king. Yet Damianos took it for granted that this intimacy was welcome. He pushed a second finger inside Laurent without asking.

He had done this before, Laurent thought. He had touched Laurent like this before. He had fucked Laurent, before, he thought. How many times had it happened? Was this a new arrangement, that had led to his coronation? Or had it stretched out for some time? How many nights had Laurent bent over for him?

How did he act, when this man was taking him? Did he tolerate it? Was he commanding? What were his preferences? Did he writhe on the sheets like a pet?

Should he be saying something? Doing something? He felt that he had just been laying there, perhaps he should be doing--or perhaps not. He was the king; he deserved appropriate attendance. He shouldn’t have to put in a great deal of effort.

“You are thinking again,” said Damianos.

“Try harder,” said Laurent.

Damianos added a third finger. Laurent was beginning to feel aroused again. He wished he could roll onto his stomach and hide behind the fall of his hair and that he did not have Damianos’s insightful eyes on his face while this happened.

“Are you sore from last night?” said Damianos, scissoring his fingers.

Laurent was starting to understand how to handle these questions. He did not feel sore, but that was irrelevant. “Oh last night,” he said, “I hardly remember it, tell me what happened, again?”

Damianos laughed. “You are terrible,” he said, and then he moved on the bed and was pulling Laurent’s legs up over his shoulders. Laurent had another view of his cock, heavy and primed, and then he tugged Laurent down the bed a bit closer and Laurent could only feel his cock, pressing against him, as Damianos positioned it.

The first thrust was slow, and long. Laurent moaned.

“You feel so big,” said Laurent.

It was Damianos’s turn to moan. “Don’t tease me, Laurent.”

“You should say ‘Your Majesty’,” Laurent corrected.

Damianos said something else, but it was in Akielon, and Laurent didn’t understand what it was. He would have to learn Akielon, he realized. And quickly. It did not sound like “Your majesty,” though, whatever Damianos had said.

“I am king now,” Laurent said. He felt confident enough saying that after their conversation earlier about the coronation, and he left off the whole confusing New Artes business. “You must be properly respectful,” he told Damianos.

Damianos did not manage a response to that, though he did draw back and thrust into Laurent again. Or perhaps that was his response. Laurent was still deciding if it were sufficient, but then Damianos did it again, and his thoughts began to become muddled again. It was so hard to think.

“I have high expectations for your service,” said Laurent, only half aware by now of what he was saying. Damianos groaned. “You must--”

Words were lost in the movements of their bodies together. Laurent found that if he arched his back the feeling was even more pleasurable, and Damianos’s hand had wrapped around Laurent’s cock again, and was bringing him to pleasure yet again.

The storm built more slowly inside Laurent, this time, like a summer rain that built gently, but then it was upon him, and it was just as intense as earlier.

Toward the end, Laurent said, “Please,” and “Damianos,” and “I can’t think,” and “I need--” and he hoped desperately that Damianos continued to know him better than he knew himself and knew what he needed even when Laurent could not put words to it.

Damianos thrust inside him more deeply, and stronger, losing himself, and then he said, “Laurent,” and “I love you”--and Laurent had not expected that and he crested as though struck by lightning.

Love--he hadn’t considered--his hands clutched at Damianos’s shoulders as Damianos thrust to his own finish. Laurent’s eyes were wide. He watched Damianos’s face contorted in pleasure. Love.

His thoughts felt stuck, echoing the same word over and over. He hadn’t asked the cave for this, he thought. He hadn’t imagined it this way. He still did not know where he was, or why he was here, or what types of problems faced the kingdoms of Artes and Acquitart.

He did not know why he had chosen this partner, or why Damianos had agreed to work with him. What either of them had offered for such a bargain, and if they had fulfilled the agreement, or if there were debts left to be paid. He did not know how he was going to learn such things, either, without revealing himself.

Damianos found his lips again, kissing him slowly and holding Laurent close in his arms. “Good morning, your majesty,” he said again, the teasing in his tone clear.

Laurent kissed him back, curling closer into his arms, and for the first time in many years, looking forward to a new day. “Good morning,” he said.

THE END (OR THE BEGINNING REALLY BUT THE END OF THE FIC)

**Author's Note:**

> [this fic on tumblr](http://josselinkohl.tumblr.com/post/171521776332/ive-been-reading-nikanndross-time-travel-au-but)


End file.
